


Of Lost Chances and Mixed Signs

by lazilytransparentaccountant



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:57:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazilytransparentaccountant/pseuds/lazilytransparentaccountant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU where Clarke and Lexa meet, become friends with potential for more but they are both too blind to see it and reluctant to act towards their feelings. There is a lot of attraction early as they meet but they first become really close friends. Slow burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I will see you when I see you

**Author's Note:**

> First clexa fic to write. Let's see how it goes from here.

_It's funny -- you think -- that the notion of destiny was always nothing but an abstract, distant thought. But in retrospect, you want nothing else but to accept the fate of the circumstances. You want nothing more than to believe that it was all for something. That it was supposed to be like this. Because only then can you understand and accept the events that have led you up to this moment._

_It takes only mere seconds for you to decide that everything that's happened, and how it has happened, was meant to be._

// 

The first time she comes into Clarke’s life she doesn't even acknowledge her. It's one of those things that just happens so routinely and she ignores. 

It happens in one of the least expected of ways. It's spontaneous, unpredictable, and definitely a parallel that resembles the common clichés in most movies and romance novels. 

But of course, every story is a long way from a happy ending. 

It's that time of the year when the mornings are starting to become a bit cooler, or at least less hot than the afternoons. Sunrise is still early, relatively, and it is a fresh reminder that another fall semester is about to start. 

A few glimpses of sunlight begin to reflect through the small gaps in the curtains. It is long before she's supposed to be up and getting ready for class but the stubbornness of the sun’s brightness makes it impossible for her to attempt to fall asleep again. 

Clarke groans and stretches as she slowly begins to gain consciousness. Out of habit, she nearly forgets that she has things to do that day but the realization hits her and she can't help but sigh. She figures that as long as she's up she might as well head to the bathroom and beat her roommates (who really take longer than they should) to an early morning shower. 

Clarke always found the beginning of every semester to be useless, boring, and maybe even a pain for some instructors but the responsible side of her, the one that's a little anxious of missing even an unimportant detail, is the one that forces her to show up to class. 

It'll be over before you know it, she tells herself. Math has never been her forte so she hopes that fifty minutes of torture are at least cut down to forty five by the mercy of her professor. 

By some miracle (she thinks it's her urge to get the day over with) she manages to make it to class fifteen minutes before the lecture is supposed to start and of course she isn't surprised when a bunch of students are already lined up, waiting in the crowded hallway for a sign to go into the lecture room. Once a few people walk out of the room, a majority of them impatiently make themselves inside. 

Clarke, knowing that it's best to let all the students out before the next class walks in, seeks a semi empty bench on the hallway and waits until she thinks it'll be the right time to walk in. A few people greet each other as they make their way to their respective locations. She manages to make out the “how've you been’s,” the “who are you taking for stats?” And “let's go out for lunch sometime.” She smiles because it's something that she, too, would do if she knew some of the people around but being a med student makes her unfamiliar with most of the people in the building, including the professors. 

A phone call from her mom has her looking down at her lap. She quickly digs into her pocket and pulls up her phone, pulling it out just in time to answer. She decides against it after some thought and sends out a quick text instead. _Can't talk, in class. Will catch up with you later._

If she's being truthful, she would rather not catch up at all. Knowing that allowing her mother any sort of communication will only lead to talks about school and high expectations makes her unwilling to talk her. Unfortunately, she knows that she can only ignore her for so long. 

Clarke realizes that she's lost track of time when she spots who she thinks is the professor walk into the room and she quickly gathers her stuff and follows closely behind him. The lecture will probably consist of more introductions and tutorials.. Not that she doesn't find them annoying but she would rather take those any day over derivatives and integrals - talk about paying for an education. 

The lecture hall is filling up quickly, just like any typical first couple of days. The idea that out of the hundred or so people in the room only less than half will remain as the semester progresses has her smiling to herself and then slowly retracting it. She really wishes she’s not one of those who'll have the need to drop the class. 

She is trying to understand how most colleges make math classes pretty much mandatory for all majors when a random girl who is sitting next to her gets up, gathers her neatly place supplies and walks behind her seat, her movement causing a small discomfort due to the lack of room. 

"Excuse me," is all she says as she struggles to make it into the aisle and walk down the room to another seat upfront. 

_Ah, she's one of those people,_ Clarke thinks. _Teacher's pet._ She really couldn't complain though, being familiar with professors really had its advantages like recommendation letters and internship opportunities but she could never see herself needing any of those from a math professor. Besides, as a med student, her mom has almost all of her career needs covered. 

The professor finally directs himself and addresses the class and she is forced to pay attention to more tutorials on how to use the online homework tool and how much everything is worth. _Completely pointless._

Clarke is glad for the sudden distraction offered by the vibration of her phone because she can no longer force herself to care enough about how one homework grade will be dropped if the extra credit assignment is completed. She lets go completely of the thought once she realizes she received a text from Octavia.  
_I left some in the counter,_ she replies when her roommate asks whether she had anything for breakfast. Also, _it's a miracle you're up this early._

Octavia doesn't take long to respond and Clarke smiles once again because - _wow Octavia really is awake and sassier than ever._  
__**O:** You're not the only one who has class :/  
_**Clarke:** Need I remind you of the number of times you skipped class last semester because for some reason you decided to sign up for morning classes?_  
_**O:** Please don't, I don't know how you do it but hey! A good breakfast is always a reason to wake up. This is delicious!!!_  
_**Clarke:** Thank Raven for it!_  
Clarke decides that at the rate that this is going she might as well put her phone completely on silent because people around her are starting to throw weird, unpleasant glances at her.  
_**O:** Raven made this? :O Who would have thought? Anyway... I'll let you enjoy class now you nerd  
**Clarke:** -.- _

Before she knows it, the professor has already moved to the third slide - or what she hopes is only the third slide - of the first chapter. She quickly opens up her journal and begins to scribble down whatever the professor is writing on the board after mentally reprimanding herself. The class seems to be engaged, a lot of students (mainly the ones in the front rows) keep asking questions which gives her enough time to catch up on the note taking. 

Turns out she is partly right. The girl who was sitting next to her when she first came in is, in fact, one of those students but Clarke notices that the stranger (at least to her) is not asking questions for recognition - unlike other students - but rather to contribute something of value to the class. Normally she wouldn't care but she gets a certain sense of relief when it hits her that the class interaction cuts down some of the class time. The professor seems to take note of this and he closes the PowerPoint slides seven minutes before the class is supposed to be over. Clarke thanks the heavens - and those people who kept asking questions - for that. 

She is halfway through putting all of her things in her bag when the professor speaks up and lets them know that the homework assignment, which he currently has pulled up on the projector, is due before the next class period. Panic washes over Clarke because she really wasn't paying much attention and now she'll be the one to ask questions before the class is over. 

// 

Lexa was never the type of person to be late to practice. If she could, she sometimes even managed to avoid the long lines at the food court and hurried back to her dorm to change and get ready for the intensity the coach always demanded of them. More often than not, her arrival to the field was nothing but impressive. 

When she finds herself running ten minutes late because of that girl who kept asking questions to the calculus professor, she feels - she knows - she is going to be asked to stay after practice and help with some of the equipment. Everyone knows that the coach has a certain liking and preference for Lexa but even if that is true (which it is), Indra will not tolerate tardiness and will not let Lexa get away with being late at the expense of her authoritative role. 

Running to the bleachers and placing her bag on the ground, the brunette takes a second to catch her breath before joining the rest of the team on the field. She watches them, tries to spot Indra but is unable to find her. _She must be in her office,_ she thinks. 

She can't help but smile as she jogs towards the center of the field and thinks that maybe, just maybe, she is a little lucky today. 

(But not for the reason that she thinks). 

Being out in the green field always gives her a sense of freedom, of relief. Of course she knows it's more than being outdoors; it is the opportunity to form part of a team and work together towards a common goal. To compete and form an ethic, a way of being. 

Soccer gives her that thrill. The rush to be who she is and let it all out. Everyone out there, every one of her teammates, can just be. They forget all about their worries, their problems and their misfortunes. In the field, it is just eleven girls chasing the ball. 

Lexa realizes she has spent way too much time just standing there and admiring her team when she hears a pair of running footsteps hitting the dampness of the grass. The slight panic goes away when she acknowledges the presence coming towards her. 

"I'm late. I know, I know. You don't have to tell me." Lexa raises her arms half way as a form to express her innocence. 

“I'm not here to complain. It's just-“ Anya begins, “you never see the captain arrive late.” 

Lexa believes Anya means it in a humorous way if only by the smirk on her face. “Believe me, it pains me more than it does you.” The captain responds after kicking a ball her way. 

“How was your morning class? Regretting it already?” 

Lexa rolls her eyes jokingly and smiles. “You're talking to the master of morning classes, but it could have gone better.” 

“I'm sure I'll hear you complain about how all your professors are unnecessarily slow for the first two weeks.” Anya teases and elbows her arm as they both make their way towards the rest of the team. 

“Then it's good to know that you're already preparing yourself mentally for all my ramblings, sis.” 

The taller girl pretends to pout before quickly changing her demeanor. “I should tell you,” she grabs Lexa’s arm and hold her back, delaying their movement. “Coach seems to have toughened up the training this year..” 

“Good. It was about time someone followed my advice..” 

“It should be interesting,” Anya shrugs.

“Yes, yes it should.” 

// 

Being a med student turns out to be way rougher than what Clarke signs up for. Her mother always made it look easy (at least relatively) and she wonders if it is indeed true when people say that each one is born with a certain purpose in life. If so, then curing illnesses and saving lives are definitely not for her. 

Everyone she knows seems to be happy doing whatever they're doing. Octavia is studying nutrition (which is funny considering the amount of junk food that girl eats), Raven is completely in love with engineering. Jasper and Monty seem to be more than happy just goofing around but it's understandable considering they're only freshmen. And sure, they all complain a little bit every now and then about how hard the course work is and how difficult it is to balance everything and still have time for enough sleep at night and having fun with friends, but if there's one thing Clarke's noticed is that she's not as happy with her choices as her friends are with theirs. 

They don't find themselves being miserable and pessimistic about an unhappy future, doing something they truly have no passion for. Perhaps her biggest flaw is wanting to please everyone around her, especially her mother. 

It was fine at first. She was good at it and she could see herself doing anything that was required to become a doctor, just like her mother. But as the semesters passed and the more the idea that what she was doing now was something that she would be doing for years to come settled on her - the more it became realistic -the less enthusiastic she became. 

It's something that she thinks about every day, and unlike most other things – good things, like the memory of her dad – becoming a doctor makes her completely miserable. She tries to hide it, she really does and she succeeds at it after convincing herself that it's too late to do anything else and that her mother won't be too happy. 

It is then that she remembers the pending call she ought to make but doesn't want to. She forces herself to because, just like calculus, she rather get it over with. 

Her mother answers after the fifth ring and Clarke hopes (and even crosses her fingers) that maybe Abby will be too busy to talk. Unfortunately, she is wrong. 

“Hello, Clarke?” 

“Hi, mom. Sorry about earlier, it's been a long day.” Clarke decides it's best to lay down because listening to her mother talk about what she thinks she is going to say really tires her. 

“No, no. It's okay.” There's some shuffling in the background, “how was everything? Did your classes go okay?” 

“Yes, mom. It's just the first week. It's as okay as all the other first weeks you've called about.” 

“Well you never know, honey.” Abby takes a breath. 

_Oh no, there it is._ Clarke braces herself. 

“Did you have a chance to talk to the professors I told you about regarding the internships or shadowing programs?” 

The blonde is glad that they are speaking on the phone, and not face to face because the degree to which she rolls her eyes is quite dramatic. “No, not yet. I haven't had a chance to. You know how busy the first days are, I'm sure they wouldn't appreciate it.” 

“Well, Clarke don't I always say you have to fight for what you want?” 

_What I want…_

“Yes, mom. Listen, there are some things I need to go over before tomorrow. I'll definitely get back to you regarding internships and whatnot.” 

“Now that you put it like that- Clarke if you don't want to do an internsh-“ 

"Mom..." Clarke cuts her off before she has the chance to get lectured. 

“Fine, fine. Can I call tomorrow?” 

“I'm sure I'll be busy.” 

“Okay how about the day after tomorrow? Or the day after that?” 

“It's the first week, mom. How about I'll call you when I can?” 

Abby seems to hesitate before responding. “Hmm, alright. Keep it up, Clarke.” 

And then she hangs up. 

// 

 

The second day is much more productive than Lexa thinks it will be. It is the day when she has the most classes, which usually she dreads, but for some reason she finds it surprisingly accommodating. Her second class ends up earlier than usual which gives her a break of two and a half hours. Not finding anything better to do, and not having many obligations as it is only the first week, she decides that going to the fitness center on campus will allow her to kill time. 

She doesn’t expect many people to be there when she walks in considering it’s almost lunch time so when she checks in and heads to the training area she is a bit taken aback. Despite the crowd, she manages to find enough room to warm up and it isn’t long before she starts that she receives a welcome back. 

“Well, well. Look who it is!” 

Lexa smiles as soon as the sentence is finished because she would recognize that smirk and that humor anywhere. “Nice to see you too, Bellamy.” She responds back with a hint of intentional sarcasm. “What are you doing in here so early?” 

Bellamy opens his arms and shrugs inexplicably, “I work here now so duty calls.” 

“Ah, who would have thought? Last semester I didn’t take you as the person to be committed to anything in all those classes we shared.” 

“What can I say? I’m a changed man.” He walks around and hands Lexa a set of weights. “Hey listen, you have professor Cunningham for b-law, right?” 

The brunette nods as she continues to do sit-ups, takes a deep breath and finally replies. “Mhm, I also noticed you didn’t show up to the first class today.” 

“Shh, don’t even say it Lexa but… did I miss anything important?” He shifts on his feet. 

“What makes you think I will tell you?” She stops to take a breath in, crosses her arms and rests them over her knees. Despite her words, she has a small smile on her face. 

“C’mon Lexa, do it for old-time’s sake. You know I’ll reciprocate, I’ll owe you one.” 

“Let’s be honest Bellamy, you owe me like twenty.” Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll text you the details later.” 

Bellamy kneels down to approach her and lightly punches her arm. “I knew you’d come around,” he says. 

“Always,” she grunts. “Here give me a hand.” Leda extends her arm and Bellamy gives in and pulls her up. Once she’s finally standing, she reaches up to ruffle his hair to which he just gives her a playful look. 

Lexa really finds it strange how their relationship has come to be. They met in the least amicable of circumstances, working in a team project in which they both wanted to lead. At first, just like in any other group project, there were signs of friction between the group members. It got even worse when they both realized that they had a lot more classes in common than any of them thought. Their personalities were very different and their rivalry was definitely something to fear but despite that, they had many things in common and managed to get over it. 

Bellamy’s ability to love and protect is something Lexa really admires because he has been there for her in more ways than one. In contrast, Lexa is always able to put her preferences aside when it comes to choosing what is right and Bellamy swears she's the most honest – and often blunt – person he's ever known. But the truth is, they both are true to what they believe in, who they are, and that has allowed them to create one of the strongest bonds. 

"I talked to Anya the other day,” Bellamy interrupts her train of thought. 

“Yeah?” 

He nods. “She says there's nothing I can do.” 

Lexa doesn't say anything for a while. She's never really been good at the whole comforting thing but a side of her knows that Bellamy really needs it, despite the appearances he tries to put up. The break up between her sister and Bellamy, who is really like a brother to her, was one of the saddest she watched them experience. 

She knows for a fact that it is much rougher on Bellamy than it is on Anya because he really is a changed man. For all that she's known him, he has never been the one to settle down and commit romantically so it came as a shock to her when he decided to finally be in a serious relationship. It was even more surprising when, out of all the girls out there going crazy for him, Anya was the one to change that aspect of him. 

Truthfully, she hates that it didn't really work out between them and she hates it even more that she can't – she shouldn't – do anything about it. It isn't her place to mettle in. If there is one thing she's glad about, it's the fact that the breakup doesn't affect her and Bellamy’s relationship, and fortunately her sister respects that. 

"I wish there was something I could do,” she finally says once they get to the cardio area. 

Bellamy nods because that is true. And he really is glad that Lexa doesn't sugar coat it. She doesn't say that it's going to be alright, because they both know it won't be for a while. She doesn't say that Anya will change her mind because they both know she's one of the most stubborn people that they know. And she doesn't say there are plenty of fish in the sea because Lexa knows that it is completely the wrong thing to say to someone who is miserable about a breakup. So Bellamy really appreciates it when Lexa finds something that is so simple, yet honest and comforting to say. 

That is one of the best qualities about her and he loves her for it. 

// 

The moment Raven comes through the door with the biggest grin on her face, Clarke becomes a little scared. She knows her friend too well and is aware of what that mischievous smile means. Raven has dirt on someone and can't wait to share it. 

“Spill,” Clarke says before Raven has a chance to say anything. 

The brunette raises an eyebrow, nods and then throws her a questioning look. “I was about to say the same thing to you.” 

Clarke thinks about it. “Nothing interesting has happened to anyone I know recently.” 

“Fine. I guess I'll have to come out with it.” She closes the door behind her and sits on Clarke's bed. The blonde waits impatiently for her to continue because she honestly has no clue as to what Raven is talking about. “I was coming home last night,” she began. “Usually I can't care less if I find a dime on the ground because I'm tired as hell and dying to get to bed.” 

“Raven-“ Clarke wants to interrupt, not really seeing the point in listening to Raven’s midnight shenanigans. “Where are you going with this?” 

“No, no. Hear me out.” With a a raised hand and a commanding glare, Raven continues. “ It's not really that difficult to spot shiny things at night, you know? Even when I'm tired it’s hard to miss them. So you must imagine my surprise when I found this.” She picks at a pocket on her jacket and reveals a handcrafted duck made out of aluminum foil. 

_Shit. She knows._

“Why is that surprising?” The blonde tries to play it down. She convinces herself that just because Raven found out (and because at this point Octavia knows about it too) doesn't mean that she has to feel guilty or defend herself. 

“Clarke, we both know that it means only one thing. He was here last night, wasn't he?” 

Clarke sighs because there really is not point in lying to her friend. “He was here for a bit, yeah.” 

“He could have stayed over, joined us for breakfast.” 

They've had this conversation many times before, or at least they've tried to but Clarke always finds a way to change the subject. She knows she can do it again. She can just ask Raven to leave the subject and she will understand and they'll both go on with their lives. The fact that she'll bring it up again some other time however, drives her insane and she forces herself to just be honest about the whole thing. 

“Honestly, Raven-“ she begins as she gets up and walks around her room. It's a strange habit, she knows it. But for some reason she can never face her friends when she is talking about something she doesn't really feel comfortable about. Specially not when it comes to him. 

Raven observes her. It is typical of Clarke to make important things seem meaningless and it is clear by the familiar look on her face – the one with wide eyes and firm eyebrows that create a stern expression – that the blonde wants nothing more than to get the subject over with. If there's one thing they all, as roommates, came to accept about each other though, it was the ever present stubbornness of the three. But just because they'd come to accept it didn't necessarily mean that they were willing to put up with it. 

Raven doesn't give in though. After all, old habits die hard.“Are you guys serious or not? I mean, you two seem good together. I don't see why you're both afraid to take the next step.” 

“I like what Finn and I have, okay?” Clarke sighs. “There are no strings attached, no commitment. We're both… We're both good at this, you know?” 

Raven nods and stops trying to convince Clarke to have a seat again. “So you're what? Just friends with benefits and that's all you'll ever be?” 

The blonde stops pacing around. If she's being honest, she's never given that question much thought. It seems unnecessary, really. Just talking about the topic seems entirely unimportant but she knows she can't dismiss her friend. Not anymore. “I don't think about us in the future. I'm just living in the moment and enjoying it.” 

“Okay,” the brunette purses her lips in defeat and gets up to leave. “I don't want you to think that I'm trying to convince you to do something that you don't want. You know I only want you to be happy. Octavia and I want just that.” 

“I know,” she smiles. Raven is being honest and if there's anything she knows for a fact is that, yes, her friends only want her to be happy. 

“By the way,” Raven pokes her head back in under the threshold. “Do you want to keep this or?” She dangles the tiny foiled duck in between her fingers. 

"Yes," Clarke rolls her eyes and slumps her shoulders jokingly before catching the object thrown at her. 

// 

It isn't until two weeks and a half – or eight class meetings later – that Clarke becomes aware of the fact that she's not paying much attention to what she's supposed to be paying attention to. In her defense, it is extremely difficult to notice anything other than that girl who sat next to her briefly during the first day of class because she is just always… there and she wonders if anyone is having the same problem as she is. She can't seem to be able to keep her eyes away from her. 

Clarke has to be honest with herself, there is a sense of admiration towards the stranger. It isn't just that she is incredibly attractive but she is also confident and committed. From the few classes that they've shared together, it has come to Clarke’s attention that the brunette never backs down from a challenge, not even when it comes from the professor. 

She remembers vividly the third day of class when the professor brought up an argument related to a quote that was written on the board as soon as they came in. 

“I'm glad I found this here,” he had pointed at the board and then walked around to look directly at everyone. “The more you learn, the more you earn.” He read the quote out loud. “Do you think that's true?” 

Despite not asking anyone in particular, a few yes and no’s were heard around the room. “I think I will have to agree with those of you who said no,” he said as he continued to walk around the room. 

It wasn't until he finally placed his briefcase on the desk and began to look through it that someone spoke up. “I disagree,” said the girl who Clarke only remembered as the one who moved up front on the first day. 

The professor appeared to find some humor in it but insisted on the challenge. “As much as I applaud your commitment to pursue a higher education, I know for a fact that you don't need one to be successful.” He pointed out and laughed. 

The class stayed silent for a while. Seconds later a few students offered comments which resonated with what the professor had said but Clarke observed that the brunette wasn't about to give in. 

“I think you're putting limits on the scope of the quote,” it was then that the chattering in the back rows stopped and even the students in the very front turned to look at the girl. “You're implying that in order to learn, one must spend thousands of dollars in a college education.” 

“Well, isn't that true? I mean, you're all here, aren't you?” He stopped trying to empty his briefcase and stepped next to the desk, leaning on his elbow and looking suspiciously smug at the student before him. 

The girl shook her head and straightened her back. “There are many ways to learn, and I'm certain that who ever wrote that quote didn't put a constraint to the number of ways one can learn. To learn doesn't meant that one has to be challenging oneself academically. One can learn more about a particular trade or business not buy paying for an education, like you stated, but also by simply participating in that trade or business.” 

The professor opened his mouth, looked around the class and Clarke remembers assuming that he seemed to be begging for help. When no one else spoke up and when he couldn't come up with another rebuttal, he simply stated that she had made a good point. 

Clarke couldn't appreciate her expression very well but even though she could only see a part of the girl’s face and a part of her reaction, she knew that it was one of the biggest signs of satisfaction. 

She thinks that is the first time she noticed her, and every day since has been worse and worse. Worse for her letter grade but oh so pleasing for her eyes. 

The days pass and still, what Clarke assumed was just a meaningless and temporary distraction, begins to become too much. She likes how confident and committed the girl is. How sure she seems of herself whenever she answers a question and how she's willing to stand for what she believes in whenever she's being challenged by the professor or another student. 

Clarke soon comes to know her last name, all thanks to the heated debates between the girl and the professor. Now that she thinks about it, she admits that she would be willing to take even more math courses just to experience that sort of entertainment. Even if she finds the professor annoying at times, she is glad to know that she's not the only one who does. 

Her days of admiring from afar finally come to an end on the fifth week of class. 

A late night spent with the gang has her sleeping through her five alarms but she manages to make it into class, although in a rush and a bit behind, thanks to Octavia who, not surprisingly, decided to pull an all-nighter along with Raven. 

Despite the number of times she tells herself to stop going to bed so late - or early, considering she goes to sleep sometime after four – Clarke is never really able to listen to her own advice, or the current thundering in her head. She convinces herself, or tries to, that if she's not going to sleep any earlier she should attempt to at least drink a lot less. 

A lot less meaning not at all because even the low whispers in the hall and the jotting of notes on paper are making her regret her decision of even showing up for class. Dismissing that thought, and the image and idea of the comfort of her bed, is harder than it seems. Especially after a girl who is too distracted by the phone on her hands runs into her, causing Clarke to drop her books and somehow her bag all over the few steps that lead to the seats. 

Any other day she would have probably gone off on the girl, or at least asked for an apology or tell her to watch her step, but on a day when she can't really care less she is simply glad she isn't carrying coffee with her. The girl continues to walk and Clarke is not even bothered by the fact that she wasn't offered some help when she hears the words that keep her from kneeling down and picking up her stuff and instead have her turning around and watching the interaction. 

“Hey, hey!" It's almost a shout. "That was rude,” the girl who Clarke now knows only as Miss Woods, stands in the way of the other girl and confronts her about the incident. The other girl only gives her a glare and tries to step forward but when the brunette doesn't move she bumps shoulders with her and continues to walk through the packed halls. “Listen,” the brunette tries again, reaching for the girl’s shoulder but it is too late with the other students getting in her way. 

“Hey, hey no. It's okay,” Clarke finally speaks up. Woods turns to look at her as if she had forgotten she was there and as if the whole situation was about getting to the other girl. “Thanks for that but it wasn't necessary.” 

She continues to look at her, her eyes intense and focused. Finally looking down at the ground, she shakes her head and kneels down to pick some of Clarke's things. “People are impolite nowadays,” she says in a very serious tone. 

Clarke can't help but produce a small smile because she's never met someone who would take something so insignificant as serious as this. A chuckle erupts and she notices the girl look up at her from where she's kneeling down. “Not you though,” Clarke says and continues to offer her a smile. 

When the brunette finally stands back up with all of Clarke's things, save for her bag, she shrugs and half nods. Her stoic expression is now gone and replaced by a friendly quirk of the mouth as well as squinty eyes. 

“So we're do you want these?” 

“Oh, umm,” Clarke turns around and motions towards her usual seat. She walks ahead first and doesn't turn to look up at the stranger until the she hears a stump on the table and she knows her books have been placed. “Thanks-“ she begins but is somehow unable to continue due to a moment of surprise. 

"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?” The seat next to her has been empty since the first day so all Clarke can do is shake her head and smile. 

“That seat has been empty ever since you moved up front.” The girl suddenly looks at her and gives her a questioning look. “I mean, I'm surprised you're not sitting up front today. Woods right?” 

They both sit in their respective seats when they see the professor walk in. “New pair of glasses," She points to the pair of glasses on her head and Clarke finally realizes why something looked unfamiliar. "So it doesn’t matter where I sit and yes," she half nods, "Lexa Woods.” 

“Ah, so the famous Miss Woods has a name. Let me tell you, I'm being honest when I say that you're the hero of almost every student in this class for standing up to the professor.” 

Clarke thinks she recognizes a hint of pride when Lexa smiles even wider. "It's not as fun as it seems, you know?" She looks to the professor and then back at Clarke, "and I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage." 

"Oh, right.” She shakes her head. “I'm Clarke." The blonde resists the urge to offer a handshake. "Clarke Griffin." 

“Pleasure,” Lexa offers and Clarke only smiles. The opening of her mouth and the hint of indecisiveness in her eyes don't go unnoticed by Clarke. “Can I just say…” There’s a moment of hesitation. Clearly Lexa is having more trouble with this than necessary and Clarke doesn't really understand why. “I just need to say this before I change my mind-“ 

“I'm all ears, but please do so before the professor starts one of his rants,” she jokes. She'd be lying if she said she isn't the least bit intrigued by what the girl next to her is about to say. 

“I guess I just need to say that your eyes are a beautiful shade of blue that render me speechless,” there's a pause and Clarke takes notice of the girl’s sincerity. “Or anyone really.” 

At that point all Clarke can do is remain silent because- _holy shit, if she thinks my eyes are beautiful what must she think of her own?_

"Well," Clarke clears her throat, "you call it as you see it, don't you?" There is a certain sense of familiarity and Clarke cannot hide her smile. 

"I know beauty when I see it, Clarke." 

"Thank you, you're not bad to look at yourself, you know?" She offers in response. 

Clarke can clearly see the signs of confidence portrayed by the way Lexa smiles knowingly, acknowledging and admitting. She doesn't quite understand how the girl who just nervously complimented her is the same girl who proudly protests and disagrees with anything the professor, or anyone for that matter, has to say. 

It's strange really, Clarke thinks, how someone she doesn’t really know can feel so familiar. She thinks she's never been particularly good at reading people – or their first impressions – but there's something about Lexa. 

The given, of course, is that there is a certain mystery to her. Her aloofness, or what Clarke thinks is aloofness, creates a pedestal that elevates her above everyone else. Not that she acts that way but the way her presence occupies the room and the way she just sits there and manages to make everyone else just blur in the background certainly makes her seem goddess-like. 

But the captivation goes beyond her looks and ways of standing. Lexa has multiple sides to her, which really isn't what intrigues Clarke as much as how she feels as if she's known her for a while. It's happened to her before, briefly. She catches pieces of people's lives and carries them with her to remember a part of her that she longs from long ago. And she knows that she just met Lexa Woods; she knows that the part of her that thinks Lexa is so, so similar to her dad, the part of him that she wants to remember – the honesty, the bravery, and the smugness – are what are pulling her towards the brunette. She’s finding the similarities to be way, way too strong, despite having only just officially met. 

A humorous exhale that sounds more like a grunt and like the girl next to her is trying not to laugh pulls Clarke out of her trance. She realizes she has been staring at the girl all along. Lexa, who has long ago stopped looking at her and has stopped being involved in their short interaction, is looking amusingly at the professor and Clarke follows her eyesight. 

“What’d I miss?” Clarke gives herself away but she realizes her mistake too late, once a particular set of green eyes are looking at her. 

“He just made a fool of himself,” Lexa makes a movement with her head indicating that Clarke should look at the professor. 

“And here I thought you said poking fun of him wasn't as fun as it looked?” The blonde challenges. 

Scribbling down some notes, Lexa hums. “He makes it too easy,” is her silent response. 

“I didn't take you for the type to get on the professor’s nerves.” 

And with that, Lexa stops looking down at her notes to make eye contact once again. “Disappointed?” She asks, almost daringly. 

“Oh no, on the contrary,” Clarke offers with a wave of her hand. “Intrigued and interested.” 

She thinks their conversation ends there because the typical, small, one-sided smile that she's come to characterize Lexa by is back and she is certain there will be no response after that. 

She is surprised when a response does indeed come. 

“In that case,” she clears her throat and then her voice is almost a whisper, “how about I keep intriguing you over coffee? Or tea? Whichever you prefer, of course.” 

If any other person in this class had come on to her as strong as Lexa currently was, Clarke is a hundred-and-ten percent sure that she would have turned them down in the nicest way possible, but she isn't about to do that to someone who she also wants to recreate memories with, memories that she thinks she has forgotten but in reality she just wishes she did. 

"Hmm, coffee is overrated. How about this?” She tries not to be too loud, aware of the people and the discussion about – she doesn't even know what it is about at this point – being discussed around the room. “-how about you surprise me?” 

Lexa seems to think about it for a second, her fingers fix the loose strands of hair on her messy bun but Clarke thinks that part of her is up to the challenge. 

“I like the sound of that. Meet me by the chess plaza, you know where the blue bench is, under the arching trees?” 

Clarke nods, “of course, it's hard to miss.” 

“How does tonight at seven sound?” 

“You think that will give you enough time to surprise me?” 

Lexa appears to find that only slightly funny but still manages to respond seriously, “oh believe me, I've already got everything planned down to the last detail.” 

“Huh… Well you really are intriguing,” Clarke winks and she can't believe people are packing up or that class is over. It certainly hasn't ended this soon before, but then again, she's never spent the entirety of the class time with good company. 

“Don't forget,” Lexa calls to her as Clarke makes her way out of the class, “seven o’clock tonight.” 

Clarke smiles, “I won't forget, I promise.” 

// 

“Come on, Rae!” Octavia screams loudly from her room. It's not long after that Raven pokes her head in questioningly through the door and Octavia seems to forget all about the blue screen on her computer that she's been staring at for the past five minutes only to smile at the brunette. “I really need your help with this.” 

"Again? O, this is the third time this week." Raven walks almost sluggishly and finally stands behind Octavia, resting her hands lazily on her shoulders. 

“I know," she sighs, "I need to get a new one.” Raven doesn't have to look at her to know she's pouting. 

“What you need to do is leave the apartment and go out, have a drink,” she says convincingly. “I know your breakup with Lincoln was bad babe but you can't stay here and think about what could have been all the time.” 

Octavia, knowing her best friend means well, nods and reaches back to make some contact, her arm raised to grasp Raven’s hand. “Thanks for putting up with me Rae, I don’t know what I would do without you honestly.” 

"Hmm, well I have some ideas. You'd be lost in this world without me, that's for sure and,” she pats the girl's back, “you don't need to thank me, we've been friends since forever. It's really nothing.” 

“Seriously, we've known each other for ages, it's crazy.” 

“Now come on,” changing the topic, Raven figures, is probably for the best. “Let's go get ready and go out tonight.” 

There really isn't much Octavia can say. She knows that it's been weeks since the breakup and a distraction will do her some good, plus she can't say no to Raven when the girl is looking at her in that particular way- 

The first thing that comes to mind though, the thing that she must do, is hug her best friend. It really is hard to explain why, whenever she's near her, there is a certain sense of comfort, of safety, and it goes beyond being just friends. 

But neither of them says anything about it, neither of them brings it up. 

Her worry-free state is short lived as she feels Raven’s fingers lightly squirming through her sides, back, and abdomen, tickling and forcing her to lose all control. 

“Cheer up, O!” She said in between laughs and her amusement would be contagious if only she were able to catch a breath. 

Still, she remains there, not pulling herself away despite being fully capable of it. She screams for help and asks her to stop but the tickling continues as they both know she doesn't mean it. 

It's been a while since Octavia has been able to laugh this much, to let it all go. It's amazing how something so simple as tickling and someone so warm like Raven can make her feel light and like everything is going to be alright. 

It isn't until Octavia is surrounded in bed, with Raven on top of her, that the tickling ends. Neither of them says anything. If they're aware of anything it is merely the fact that their faces are really close to each other, they can feel each other's heartbeat and that there's an attraction pulling them closer and closer together until- 

“Guys, I'm home!” The front door closes and Clarke yells as she comes in. “Are you two in here?” Her voice becomes more audible as she walks deeper into the hallway. 

Octavia’s and Raven’s limbs are forced to disentangle and in a heartbeat one is sitting in the chair facing the computer while the other one stays in bed. 

“We're in my room!” Octavia replies, suddenly aware that her voice sounds different; deeper, distant. She clears her throat and fixes her shirt. 

When Clarke finally finds them, she joins Raven in bed, sprawling tiredly and stretching out her arms. “I'm so tired,” she yawns, “I haven't even worked out today and I'm tired.” 

“Clarke,” Raven poker her side, “you rarely work out and you're always tired.” 

“That's true, I'm honestly jealous of your shape. You could go weeks without working out and still look as amazing as you do.” Octavia adds. 

“I wish,” she laughs, “but hey, what did I miss?" 

"We're going out tonight, all of us." Raven makes a gesture to indicate that the three of them are included. “You're coming with, no backing out.” 

"What's the occasion?" 

"Well, Raven here convinced me that in order to move on-“ 

“Is this about Lincoln?” Clarke sits up immediately, predicting the sensible topic. Her eyes go back to Octavia after a clear yet sassy ‘mhm’ from Raven. “Oh honey, if it makes you feel better of course I will go.” 

"It's a plan then!” Raven stands up suddenly and excitedly. The other two shake their heads and laugh because only Raven can manage to lighten up the worse of situations. 

Octavia finds herself staring at her. Not just looking casually, but flat out admiring and she catches herself before Clarke or anyone else can notice.  
“How about some pre-night drinks then?” She adds. 

// 

Lex a has always prided herself at being understanding and open-minded. She likes giving people the benefit of the doubt, specially when she doesn't know them very well. So when she spends all day looking forward to seeing a certain blonde and shows up fifteen minutes early to their agreed location, she doesn't worry too much about her lack of appearance. 

Still, that doesn't keep her from for making up excuses as to why Clarke might be late. Maybe for her, seven actually meant anytime from seven to eight. Maybe she's just running a bit late because she is still getting ready, because a friend needed something, or maybe she's just on her way. 

Her excuses become less and less believable after spending thirty minutes sitting on the blue bench with no sign of matching bright blue eyes and angel hair. 

// 

“Oh my god Octavia, we really didn't want the start of our night to be like this,” Clarke tried to reason while the three of them walked out of the bar. 

“Uh! I want to punch something!” Raven walked ahead, clearly upset at the unexpected turn of events. 

“Calm down guys,” Octavia was glad she was walking in the middle of the other two girls. Maybe like that she'd be able to somehow keep them both in check. “Neither of you could have known that Lincoln would be in there.” 

“Still babe,” the blonde intertwines her arm on hers, “this was our night – your night – and it shouldn't have being ruined ‘cause of him.” 

“Look, look,” Octavia makes sure of getting Raven’s attention before continuing, “our night doesn't have to be over because of Lincoln. There are a lot of other bars out there.” 

And with that, with that simple reassurance that Octavia isn't completely miserable, Raven takes a deep breath, straightens her shoulders and walks along with her two friends to another bar. 

// 

At 7:45 PM Lexa decides that her optimism has run out. She's sure that she's the only one on the face of the planet who would wait forty-five minutes only to be stood up. Clarke could have showed up fifteen minutes late, maybe even thirty, and it would all have been worth it. 

As she stands and picks up her bag, she reasons that even an hour would have been worth it but by now she knows she has obviously been stood up. 

She walks away and doesn't look back. 

// 

Going out for drinks on a school night is not the worse decision Clarke has ever made. Regardless, she decides that going out was not the best idea as she regrets showing up to her morning calculus class. 

For some unknown reason (she thinks it's her reluctance into put any effort into getting ready that morning), she is one of the three students sitting in class before anyone else arrives. She's also sure that she won't be able to pay attention to anything the professor will say, so she puts her head down and merely shows up to get the homework assignment due during the next class period. 

Surprisingly, the class is quieter than usual, even as the professor arrives and continues to lecture the class. His voice is not as annoying as mostly every other day, she finds, but she figures not looking at him helps in that regard. 

They get to the point in class where he asks a few students to volunteer and Clarke is glad that he's not the type to pick on people randomly because otherwise she'd be so, so screwed. 

“You can't find the area of that with a derivative since it's not completely bounded,” someone adds and Clarke finds that voice familiar. 

_Shit._

She opens her eyes, proceeds to sit up and straighten her back, attracting the attention of some of the students around her and even some in the back. 

_Lexa._

A tide of guilt washes over her because how could she have forgotten she was suppose to meet up with Lexa the night before? She should have known something was awry when the girl went back to sitting in her usual seat upfront. But of course there's no way Clarke would have known that considering she's almost falling asleep in class. She literally wants to slap herself in the face. 

It's hard to go back to not caring about class and trying to fall asleep after that realization but she's glad when class is finally dismissed because now at least she'll have a chance to clarify, or try to. 

She takes longer than usual gathering her stuff, which really shouldn't be all that hard since she only used a pen and a journal, and runs down the isle after she spots Lexa leaving the room. 

It doesn't take too long to catch up for her, but it's clear Lexa doesn't really want to wait for her after Clarke calls her name a few times. It isn't until the blonde literally taps her shoulder that Lexa stops and turns around to look at her. 

“Can I help you, Clarke?” 

The blonde tries to dismiss the harsh tone in which Lexa’s words are spoken, but that doesn't mean she doesn't notice it. “Lexa I am so sorry, I didn't do-“ 

“Don't worry about it,” Lexa interrupts and turns around once more to continue walking. 

“Look! I'll make it up to you,” she walks behind her. Giving up has never been a characteristic of Clarke. 

“Apology accepted but I don't do second chances.” They both stop briefly to make way for other students in the hallway. 

“Come on, Lexa. I can explain.” 

“Clarke,” they finally make eye contact. “Tell me why I should give someone who made me wait almost an hour a second chance?” 

“Because,” Clarke begins, “not only are you in for a hell of a night but imagine telling people about this crazy person you met,” she points at herself, “and how you had a wonderful time. Not only that but you can also tell them that that person was the biggest idiot in the planet because they stood you up on the first date – well I was assuming it was a first date.” Biting her lip is not part of the plan but Clarke hopes it will help. 

There's the smallest hint of a smile on Lexa's face, so small Clarke isn't sure she sees it but the doubt goes away as soon as Lexa nods. “Fine,” she says, “but it really must be one hell of a night. My expectations are high.” 

After exchanging phone numbers, both girls part ways with the biggest smiles on their faces.


	2. Come With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do another update before the year ended but seems like it'll be a 2016 update. Hopefully this year I'll have time to update more than once a year. 
> 
> Anyone seen the movie "Remember Me?" The dessert scene is inspired by that.

_“When I saw you I fell in love and you smiled because you knew.”_

-William Shakespeare 

 

//

 

Raven is aware that she doesn’t know her friends like the palm of her hand. She does, however, like to think that she is good at reading them – it is intuition, or a sixth sense, she isn’t sure. She has always prided herself in her ability to always be there for her friends when they need her, and even when they don't, which she knows can get annoying sometimes but that's beside the point because her friends appreciate and are well aware of that fact.

She knowns exactly when Octavia is upset by the way she says less than usual, the way she hangs her head a bit lower with the lack of confidence she usually carries around with her. She knows when her best friend has something to share when her eyes become a fraction wider and her smile lingers for longer than it should. 

It is no different with Clarke. Knowing the blonde for a few years guarantees a sense of familiarity. Like when a wave of inspiration hits her and it becomes apparent in her eyes, how they shift from side to side, her hands active, dying to settle down and sketch for hours. Art is something Raven knows Clarke finds soothing, pacifying. Then her desire, or lack thereof, to be around people when she needs to concentrate on a certain outline, or a particular shade. Until she lets it all out. Clarke has definitely become predictable. Besides, she isn’t particularly hard to read – except of course, when it comes to her emotions. 

To Raven, Clarke is someone who avoids commitment. And that is something that she can say without assuming. After all, she has had several talks about the matter with the blonde and has received nothing but admittance. It isn't something that she judges, after all, each to their own, but she thinks that commitment is definitely what Clarke needs. For the amount of time that she's know her, Clarke has never, ever, ever, ever wanted a relationship. Official relationships, that is. And it really is a shame that Raven doesn't have enough ‘evers’ memorized because she can't really cover the extent. But it's fine because Clarke doesn't really need to explain herself to anyone, she just has to be accepted and Raven likes to think that she's doing a decent job with that.

So when Raven surprisingly gets out of work earlier than usual and she's making her way into her bedroom, she doesn't expect to find Clarke on the phone with someone at all. Okay, scratch that. That isn't the weirdest thing about coming home and finding Clarke home, but rather hearing her plan a date. She's almost tempted to pinch herself to make sure this is really happening. Raven decides to discretely linger a little longer by the blonde’s door, taking careful steps and trying not to be too loud. Of course, she also feels a little guilty for listening to something she isn’t supposed to be listening to.

“Look, I know I made a bad first impression, or was it a second impression?” Clarke seems to take a moment to think about it. “But third time’s the charm right?” She says it with a tone that Raven has never heard before. There's a hint of familiarity, confidence and of course, a hint of flirtation. “How does dinner sound?”

The brunette doesn't realize that there is a smile forming on her lips and she really wishes she could just record Clarke’s conversation and save it for posterity – actually, she just wishes she could share it with Octavia, she would definitely enjoy hearing this – but Clarke is her friend, after all, and teasing her about this, especially when she seems to finally be putting down her walls for someone is more than inappropriate.

“Okay, okay,” the blonde speaks a bit louder into her phone, “you're completely right. I do owe you for saving my ass in class the other day, also for standing you up, so let’s do dinner.”

Now Raven is really intrigued about this someone. Clarke is the type of person who usually finds anyone who tries to flirt with her beneath her and totally not worth her time, so Raven thinks that whoever this person is must have made one hell of a good impression.

Raven has to be patient, she decides. It's always like that with Clarke. She won't know anything else until Clarke decides to tell her.

 

//

 

Hidden under a stack of papers in a locked drawer, the second to last, is a box of memories and items that Lexa likes to hide. Likes is the wrong word, and she feels guilty for even implying that it's something she must hide. But it's something that is uniquely hers – something that no one can take away and the less they know about it, the more she can keep her sense of self.

It is not a box that she likes to open often. In fact, she can only ever recall having to open it twice in her life.

The first, during freshman year. Her first game as a new member about to make her debut for the team. She was reluctant to open it, or to have the need to open it, but she didn't regret it after her team won the first game. The second time occurred almost on accident. Being too nervous for an interview made her uneasy and unaware of what she was really doing. So, with uncontrolled movements and a frantic mind she landed on her knees and opened a drawer she thought she would never open on a day like that. The headlines and the photos had a way of making her feel grounded, making her come back to her senses. She found it ironic how, despite being reluctant to open that box, her body relied on muscle memory just to feel comfort, motivation, and a reason to keep moving forward.

It is strange for her to have that feeling overcome her again. The feeling of missing, of nostalgia, is not something she does often, nor is it something that she particularly likes. What is more intriguing is the reason for having the need to open the box. Clearly, the phone call with Clarke has triggered that need in her, but she reminds herself that it's more to do with the expectation of being surprised by Clarke rather than having just talked to her.

Lexa looks at the time and relents to the voice in her head that tells her that no, she shouldn't give in and open that box. _She doesn't need it, not anymore._ Things need to change and so she gets up, heads for the shower, and gets ready to meet Clarke.

Anya gets to her dorm a few minutes before Lexa thinks it will be a decent time to leave and still make it ten minutes early to the arranged location. Her sister doesn't bother announcing herself, much less greeting her as soon as she sees her, and instead glances over her with an implied quizzical look. 

“What's-” Lexa wants to ask but is cut short when Anya shakes her head with a incredulous smile.

“You didn't say you were going out,” she says as she leans her back on the door frame and continues to inspect her sister.

“You make it sound like I need your permission.”

Anya chuckles and tilts her head back in an attempt to exaggerate. “You don't,” she shakes her head again. “But I find it really surprising that you're going out on a day before practice, especially when it's early in the morning.”

“First time for everything.” With that, Lexa finally tears her eyes away from her closet and turns to look at Anya. “Do you need me to stay? Girls’ night in?” She asks, knowing there's something off about her sister, starting with the fact that she wasn't being interrogated about this date. If it even was a date. She shakes her head and lets go of the thought before she has a chance to analyze and overthink it.

“No, no. It's just one of those days and I'm not going to let you be miserable with me. Plus you need this.” She offers a more timid smile now and Lexa can feel a more sensitive topic coming. She isn't wrong when Anya asks, “so have you seen him lately?”

Lexa rests her arms on her sides and moves to sit at the edge of her bed but not before patting the spot next to her. Anya sits and the younger sister doesn't say a word until Anya fully shifts to look at her. “I have. I've talked to him. He's sort of my trainer now.”

“I hope he's not- I hope we're both not bothering you much with this.”

Lexa shakes her head even before Anya has a chance to finish her sentence. “You're not bothering me with anything. You are my sister and he's a great friend. It's not that confusing.” She gives her a semi-arrogant smile which Anya knows is just a form of teasing. “I can cancel my plans tonight if you really need me to stay.”

“Lexa, I'm sure the rest of the team would much rather have their captain relieved tomorrow, after getting laid, than with a stick up her ass.”

The brunette squints her eyes and shakes her head disappointedly before cracking a smile. “One, stop referring to me in third person and two, who said anything about getting laid? For all you know I may just be catching a movie by myself.”

“Please Lexa, if there was a movie you really wanted to watch you would have been nagging me about it for weeks before it came out.”

“You know me too well,” she pouts. “But I'm glad tonight's not one of those nights when you ask a million questions.”

Anya gets up and makes her way out of her sister’s dorm room before she says anything. “Oh, don't think I forgot!” She nearly shouts. “I'm only waiting for you to get back from your date before I interrogate you.”

This time, Lexa actually laughs. “Who said anything about a date?” She yells back but receives no answer.

 

//

 

“You know, it really is fucking weird seeing you two like this.” 

Bellamy and Octavia shift their eyes from the TV and turn to look at Raven who's just made herself into the living room.

“When did you get here, Rae? I thought you had an extra shift today.” Octavia asks nonchalantly as she goes back to stare at the screen. Bellamy just reaches over and grabs the popcorn bowl from the coffee table without saying a word. 

“Work got cancelled. I actually just got back from the gym. A little early but I guess that's a good thing because you two look miserable as fuck. What are you even watching?” She stands next to the couch, waiting for any of them to answer.

“Some chick-flick Octavia insisted on watching,” Bellamy adds and Octavia turns to look at him as if he just insulted her. Raven rolls her eyes and smiles only a little bit at Octavia’s expression.

“We're only watching this because you're sad about Anya!” The younger Blake defends herself.

“No, this is about Lincoln.” He retorts.

“Bellamy, I swear to god. You said-”

"Alright you two, cut it out!” Raven interrupts before things get out of hand, like they usually do. “It doesn't matter who decided to watch this horrible movie, we’re turning it off anyway. Besides, neither Anya,” she stares at Bellamy. “Nor Lincoln, deserve this pity party. Who would have thought that I'd have to deal with two post-breakup Blakes?”

Neither Bellamy nor Octavia whine when Raven grabs the remote and turns off the TV. They stare at each other for a few seconds, confused as to why Raven would do. Their eyes are then diverted towards the girl who immediately leaves the room. 

“Don't worry!” She says from the kitchen, “just came to grab something.”

It is with three shot glasses and a bottle of tequila that she finally sits between the two siblings. “Now, where were we?”

Bellamy and Octavia, again, share a look and a laugh before reaching for a glass and taking a shot each. 

“This would be so much better with lime, Rae.” Octavia says as she hits her chest in an attempt to rid herself of the strong burning sensation. 

“Desperate times, desperate measures.” Raven says as she pours another round. “Who wants another one?”

Before they can indulge in yet another shot, Clarke appears from the hallway, somewhat surprised to see them all there. She stops mid-walk and stares at them with a frown.

Clarke doesn't really expect to see them there. Not the three of them at least. So she's a bit taken a back at the lack of knowledge, though her heart does warm a little bit because after seeing both Bellamy and Octavia gloomy for a couple of days, it's finally nice to see them laughing. Their eyes have that sparkle that is so characteristic of them and Clarke knows that can only be because of Raven. But Continuing to stare at them, without saying a word, seems like the only thing she can do for now because what is she supposed to say when she's going out on a date?

“Not happy to see us?” Bellamy raises his glass.

“Surprised is very different from not happy,” Clarke begins. “Why are you guys getting wasted so early tonight?”

“Griffin, it's seven, almost eight. The better question is, where are you heading at this time?” Knowing well that she has a date, Raven still manages to ask.

“Just-“ she looks around as if she's looking for something in particular, which she is. She really needs to find a good excuse to give her friends. One that doesn't sound like she's about to meet someone and do something special with them. “I agreed to meet someone and a few other people. I'm not feeling it but you know, nothing I can get out of.” With a light shrug she grabs her keys and walks towards the door. She knows she should feel guilty for lying but she would much rather do that than be overcome with questions.

If they detect a lie, they don't say anything. And Raven, in an attempt to not make matters worse for Clarke, merely keeps shut and doesn't mention the phone call she eavesdropped on earlier. _Accidentally eavesdropped._ She shakes her head and fortunately Clarke doesn't catch her. 

“Well, have fun Clarke!” Octavia raises her glass, too, and then winks at her before downing yet another shot.

Clarke makes it out the door before saying, “don't get too drunk tonight. You'll regret it tomorrow.” But she definitely knows that they won't follow her advice.

 

//

 

It is one of those days that seems particularly shorter than the rest, primarily because it is cloudy. Clarke doesn't mind it too much, except she's really hoping there's no rain because there is no way that she's postponing this again. Having to ditch someone once is bad enough.

Then again, as long as there's not a huge thunderstorm, she decides that some rain wouldn't be too bad. Besides, it's not like she has an extravagant date planned out. Not that she couldn't do that, but this is a _first date._ Which, by the way, she is now starting to have doubts about. Her walk to the restaurant leaves her with a lot of time to think and finding the topic of her mother and her career reluctant, she has no choice but to overthink what she is about to do. She doesn't normally do first dates, or dates for that matter. In fact, if her friends were to find out what she is currently doing she's pretty sure they'd all laugh and think she's joking.

She thinks about Finn, and all the other people before him. They were never serious, and there were definitely no dates. Having been casual – sometimes constant – hook ups, like Finn, entitled them to nothing more than just sex. And she was used to it. There were no obligations, no need for pretense. Just two people having fun. So, why is she doing this?

She thinks back to what started it all, beginning with her accidentally ditching Lexa. She remembers the whole book fiasco with that other girl and is about to put all the pieces together when she sees her.

It takes her a few seconds to notice her, a few blinks of the eyes before they finally settle on her. Clarke is sitting on a stool at some artisan restaurant she quickly read good reviews about, looking distractedly at the world outside the huge glass window and entirely consumed by her thoughts, when Lexa walks by and notices her. Clarke doesn't spot her until Lexa stops mid-walk, in front of her, and waves at her from the outside.

The blonde is a bit taken by surprise as her eyes finally settle on something concrete; as she stops thinking and she manages to gain back consciousness. There Lexa is, smiling amusedly at her as if she'd been caught doing something embarrassing. Which she hasn't, Clarke forces herself to admit and then shakes her head briefly before offering a wave back. It is then that Lexa finally makes her way inside.

The bells by the door ding and the rhythmic loop of the background music is interrupted as Lexa carefully makes sure that the door is properly closed and doesn't slam or makes too much noise. Clarke can't help to think how meticulous that is. She observes as the brunette approaches her and stands merely a few feet away. They both stare at each other speechless and Lexa looks as if she's ready to say something but isn't sure if Clarke wants to go first.

Her hesitance is finally gone. “I'm surprised you're here before me,” she says with a smirk on her face. “Also, hi.”

Clarke half turns on the stool to look directly at Lexa and shrugs before replying, obviously with a smile on her face “and here I thought you were going to have your own little revenge and stand me up. Oh and,” she raises her finger as if indicating that if she doesn't get the next words out, she'll forget. “I have a reputation to maintain, now that it's semi-ruined after giving you a horrible first impression.”

“They do say second impressions are most important.”

“Really, who says that?” Clarke asks with a tilt of her head, if only to keep the conversation going.

"Well,” she pauses if only to pretend that she thinks about it. “Me.” She stares at Clarke with a serious expression without breaking eye contact and then she smiles a small, shy smile that makes her seem way too innocent.

Clarke only bends her head forward and chuckles. “Should we order?” Making eye contact as she lifts her head again seems like a bad idea because she finds that Lexa is still staring at her and wow, _she has really pretty eyes._

 

The “date” starts off a little awkward, if Clarke is being honest. But fortunately for both of them the moment begins to settle and they grow accustomed to the reality. They are both conscious that they don't know each other very well and so lack of conversation is only natural.

The mood finally shifts after the waitress brings over the menus and asks for their drinks, which they quickly give in and Clarke is a little surprised to find out that Lexa is a fan of sweet tea.

“You know, a lot of people are probably mad at you right now for your choice of drink. Tea is supposed to be hot, Lexa.” Clarke teases.

“I've had it ever since I was a child. Hard to let go.” She opens her arms as a form of gesture.

“Let me guess, you're from the south?” Lexa nods. “Where specifically?”

“We should order first, and then we talk.” Lexa picks up the menu and looks interestingly at it, occasionally lifting her eyes and catching a few glances of Clarke staring back at her.

Clarke has her elbows propped up on the table, hands together and fingers crossed. “Texas?” 

“Was it really that easy?”

“Honestly? Just a random guess but now I'm intrigued.”

The brunette smirks and turns her head back toward the kitchen area in an attempt to spot the waitress. “Good,” she leans against the left side on the table on one of her arms and smiles at Clarke teasingly. “Maybe I can tell you all about that later. Have you made up your mind on what to order?”

“Not quite yet, what's the hurry?” She notices Lexa’s observant eyes on her and it is then that she is aware of her fingers playing with her hair.

“Just the waitress coming over any minute and you don't know what you want for dinner.” There's a hint of urgency and Clarke can't help but think that maybe Lexa is getting a little bit too worried about all of this so she tries to ease her.

“Don't worry, I'm not having dinner right away.”

Lexa’s eyes become a fraction wider and Clarke feels guilty for finding it a little bit too cute. 

"You're not hungry?” She asks in surprise. “We can go somewhere else if you'd like, Clarke.” It's amazing how Lexa's eyes can be so expressive.

“Oh, no, I am, but I'm having dessert first.” That's the point, Clarke thinks, where Lexa decides that she's a little too crazy. But Clarke can't help it because she's having more fun just by looking at Lexa’s small change in expressions and reactions than she thought she would and they're only twenty minutes into this date.

“Clarke,” she starts, “didn't your parents tell you that you're supposed to have dinner before dessert?”

“Oh come on, Lexa. The secret to life is enjoying the good things.” Now it is Clarke who is looking at Lexa amusedly.

“You can still enjoy things by having dessert after,” she insists, failing to see Clarke’s logic.

"Yes but," the blonde shifts in her seat and sits a little taller just to make her point, “what if I die after I finish my dinner and then I miss out on my delicious dessert?”

Lexa laughs. She literally just laughs, a little more than she should but Clarke enjoys it nonetheless and can only stare at her in awe.

“Let's make that two desserts them, I'll have whatever you're having.”

Clarke gives her a thumbs up before replying, “that's what I like to hear.”

 

//

 

Raven realizes that she didn't really think this through. She has dealt with Bellamy and Octavia sober and that has been hard enough. But now, having them both drunk and sentimental is something else entirely. She has to admit though, she found it hysterical when Bellamy threaded to beat up Lincoln the next time he sees him only to receive an awkward hug from his sister, promising that she'd do the same to Anya. The whole thing would have been heartwarming, maybe even video-worthy (which, in retrospect, Raven is now regretting not recording it) if Octavia wouldn't have had to run to the bathroom and puke immediately. 

The two seem okay for now, and Raven sighs in relief as she finally moves all the liquor away from the coffee table in the living room. 

It's gotten late and she's a hundred percent sure that Bellamy is in no condition to drive back to his place so she gently pokes him and sits next to him once he looks up to acknowledge her. “Looks like you're crashing here, buddy.”

“I can call a cab, I don't want you disturb you three.” Raven swears he's about to doze off any minute now and she really prays that he can get him off the living room and into one of the rooms before he does.

"Nonsense Bell, listen to Raven. Take my room, otherwise it'd be weird.” Octavia says from the couch, eyes closed and laying comfortably.

“You heard her, now come on.” Raven echoes Octavia’s command.

“I’ll take this couch.” He looks down and is momentarily distracted, simply staring down at the fabric on the couch.

“Now’s not the time for humbleness, Blake.” Raven starts again, “besides, we don’t know when Clarke will be getting back. For all you know, she might think you’re an invader and try to murder you.” She tries to lift him up several times until he finally relents and makes his way to Octavia’s room on his own. 

“And where are you staying?” He peeks his head back through the hallway, almost leaning fully against one of the walls, resting his eyes on his younger sister.

“Don't worry about her, Bellamy. This loser’s staying with me.” 

He gives her some sort of hand symbol which Raven assumes is supposed to be a thumbs up before he walks back into the hallway.

“I think getting Bellamy to your room would have been much easier than getting you to mine,” Raven grunts as she tries to lift and carry Octavia to her own room. For someone who's small, she sure is heavy but Raven is thankful that her room isn't too far, even if Octavia is completely unconscious at this point.

Once in her room, Raven carefully helps Octavia into bed, making sure she doesn't accidentally fall off before she goes and tries to get a change of clothes for both of them. 

She's about to turn around and head for the closet before Octavia starts talking nonsense, or at least that's what she thinks it is since it’s hard to understand what she's saying as all her talking is muffled by the pillow under her.

Raven approaches her slowly and, with an arm on her shoulder, pulls her up and lays her sideways. She smiles as she notices Octavia frowning in an attempt to hide her face from the light and can't help but run her thumb over her cheek. “O, don't fall asleep yet. You need to change.”

“No.” The shorter brunette shakes her head stubbornly. “Come to bed,” it barely comes out and Raven really can't resist when Octavia has her arm on the empty spot next to her, offering room for her to sleep in and even better company.

 

//

 

The last time she’d been here had been horrible, Lexa recalls. She remembers hating the food and swearing to never come back again. That quickly changed when Clarke sent her a text with the details earlier that day, and who was she to change the plan? She really did not have another option.

Now, as she sits there and takes a quick sip from her drink she can't help but feel wrong about that negative review she left on their website many months ago. The food isn't terrible, it's good. It's obviously not great, but it's good and the lighting seems better. Even the music isn't as annoying as last time. 

She isn't sure if something changed or if it's the company. Clarke definitely isn't the worst person in the world, she's not bad at all.

(Except she's the only reason that this whole night is turning better than expected.)

The blonde is attractive, sure, but there's a certain magnetism to her personality as well. She's a unique character, Lexa will say that much. She has been content to just let her talk about anything. She’s certain this is the most she’s ever paid attention to anyone but Lexa is wary and reminds herself to be careful every time Clarke gives her that smile.

Clarke is definitely someone whom she wants to keep talking to, of that she is certain. And she isn't sure if she wants to keep doing that now or subtly ask for another chance to see her again. She'd rather keep the night going, of course, but she has early practice in the morning and there's no way she won't be prepared for that. Though Clarke almost makes her change her mind. It's like meeting a person who suddenly changes her whole life.

 

(But Lexa doesn't believe in that kind of stuff.)

 

(Or doesn't want to believe.)

 

It has been almost an hour since the dinner began but Lexa swears it feels like less than that. She stopped eating a while ago, once she decided that talking to Clarke was somehow more interesting than the food sitting in front of her. The blonde has a way of making her feel at ease, and there’s something about Clarke that makes all the boundaries blur and all the walls come down. Lexa, for once, doesn’t have to mind so much about how she’s supposed to do things; how she’s supposed to present herself in a certain way. If there’s one thing she has been able to observe is that Clarke is free-spirited and part of that makes her see that there can be more than one way of doing things. Starting with having dessert first, for example. 

They have made eye contact every once in a while, occasionally between bites and more often when the other was talking. They continue to do so now, even more so as Clarke places her fork down and just looks to Lexa. Looks at her, takes a deep breath and just smiles without breaking eye contact. There is something daunting about that but Lexa can’t bring herself to keep her eyes away.

 _This is it,_ she thinks. _This is when I ask to see her again._

She musters enough courage, or she thinks she does, and is about to ask when Clarke’s gaze is diverted to her phone. Again. The constant beeping of Clarke’s phone started early into the date but the blonde ignored it and Lexa was assured it was nothing important. As the night progressed it continued to interrupt and Lexa managed to ignore it but it has become incredibly hard to do so when it vibrates almost every five minutes.

“Sorry,” Clarke says sheepishly after looking down at her phone and back up to meet green eyes.

“You can take it, it seems important.” She purses her lips and Clarke only shakes her head with no offer of an explanation. 

Lexa half nods in reaffirmation. “So,” she starts in an attempt to change the subject. _Really, Lexa? Since when are you nervous about asking someone out? Especially if it’s the second time._

Clarke interrupts her train of thought. “So, listen.” And Lexa does listen. She has been doing nothing but listening (and occasionally getting distracted by Clarke’s blue eyes and captivating smile). “I thought I was too forward the other night and earlier during our phone call.”

Clarke notices the change in the brunette’s posture. She shifts in her seat and her back straightens. There’s a deep frown on her face, still there like before, and her jaw shifts just a fraction as if preparing for the worst. “Go on,” is all she says.

“I know I called this a date and I didn’t even give you a chance to say if that’s what you wanted-”

 _This is what I wanted,_ Lexa mentally answers and has to keep herself from nodding.

“-but can we make this a thank you dinner instead?” She pauses and continues as if there’s a need to offer further explanation, “for what you did for me the other day.”

Silence is better than a no, Clarke figures, but she still can’t help to take in all that is Lexa. Her stoic expression, intense eyes, and firm presence. It takes a few seconds before the other girl tilts her head a fraction, “I guess that means I won’t get to kiss a pretty girl tonight, huh?” And she smiles.

And Clarke is just surprised so she giggles and she shakes her head. “Not tonight, no.”

“Ah, but there’s hope?”

“Hmm,” Clarke pretends to think about it only as a way to avoid the question. “You strike me as the person who doesn’t lose hope rather easily.”

“That is the most indirect and vague way to answer a question, Clarke.” They both smile at each other but Clarke clearly sees that there’s a hint of a smirk on Lexa.

“Come on,” she gets up and picks up her things. “Let’s get out of here.”

They pay and leave after Lexa, very willingly, follows Clarke outside.

 

//

 

Bellamy doesn’t understand how loving someone can be so painful. _Loving someone, or liking someone?_ At this point he doesn’t really care, besides, he’s drunk so what difference does it all really make?

One thing he is sure of, however, is that he has never felt as much for anyone as he has for Anya. He has been forthcoming about it, to everyone. If he is being honest, whatever it was – whatever Anya found in him – was the best thing that happened to him. 

It is rare for him to relinquish to all thoughts of her. Of _them_. They were Anya and Bellamy before he was miserable and it is now hard to imagine himself as only the latter. He has tried hard to remain occupied, refusing to let his thoughts linger into that part of his memories that he has fought to keep at bay. It has been exhausting, but his new job and his friends keep him busy. And maybe he's just protecting himself; and maybe he's just being selfish but sometimes selfish is the only thing one can afford to be. It's only too bad that every little thing he sees or experiences reminds him of her. 

There's the new kickboxing class he's supposed to teach, the one Anya had insisted that he sign up for because he'd be great at it. All the things in his dorm – small trinkets – that she brought with her and accidentally left. The fact that _his dorm_ became so hers brings a smile to his face and he can't eve force himself to do otherwise. There's also the ghostly feeling of her next to him every time he wakes up from a nap. Or him expecting her to be there whenever he gets out of the shower. He can just picture her there, waiting on his bed, legs crossed reading some magazine she isn't even interested about then looking up at him with a smirk. _“It’s about time you got out of the shower,”_ she’d say.

Then there's Lexa. Lexa who has unquestionably become one of his best friends, even almost his own sister. And now he feels like he has two distinct worlds that he has to keep separate. Those that are literally like a family to him – Octavia, Clarke, Raven, Murphy, Jasper, and Monty – and those that could have been included in there but for whom now it's too late, like Anya and Lexa. 

He knows there's no way he'll stop talking to Lexa. They have grown so in tune with each other during the past year that it's hard for either of them to stop checking on each other. So even if Anya is no longer part of the equation, Lexa remains. And Bellamy still thinks it's for the best to not bring her in into his group of friends because she wouldn't be Lexa, Bellamy’s good friend, she would be Anya’s younger sister and that would just be too hard to bare. Especially since he can't stop replaying the memories in his head, the three of them occasionally heading to dinner, catching a movie, or even going bowling. He remembers Anya annoying Lexa purposely with exaggerated public displays of affection towards himself and he clearly recalls how Lexa would just roll her eyes and walk away.

He laughs and reaches for his phone before he's even aware and, once he is, he convinces himself that he is too drunk to not do something stupid.

The phone rings a few times before there's a restrained “Bellamy?” on the other end.

“Hey,” he says after a few seconds, taking in her voice and breathing in this moment.

"Is something wrong?” He closes his eyes because he really wishes something was going on but the only thing he can think about is how broken his heart is and how stupid of an excuse that is. “Bell,” she calls for him and that's when he becomes too aware of the mistake he's made.

“Listen, I'm sorry I called.” He shifts in bed in an attempt to sit up, eyes wide open now fully conscious of what he's doing. “I'm drunk and this is stupid, I'm sorry.”

There's silence on the other end and he understand because this is so unlike him and he shouldn't have done this. 

“Bellamy, it's okay. It's good to hear from you. Are you okay?” She said with some concern, or at least he thinks she does.

“I'm fine. I'm just-” he breathes in, takes a pause. “I'm just fine, or I will be.”

“Okay,” she says. 

There's no follow up from either of them, nor is there the awkward feeling of having the need to say something because there's a mutual understanding that they both need his. They're both there and they're both aware that the other is on the other end. It's a good feeling even with no words being exchanged. It's like they are allowed to dwell in their sorrows and understand each other without saying a weird, and for some weird reason they both find tranquility in that.

“I'm going to let you go,” Bellamy finally says.

(Mentally he thinks that he really should let her go, not just literally but also figuratively. It's time to move on.)

“Take care, Bell.”

She hangs up.

 

//

 

Having lived in Seattle the majority of her life makes Clarke familiar with the gloomy weather. It's become second nature to her knowing when to bring an umbrella with her and when to leave it at home. The horrible fall and winter weather other people complain about, particularly outsiders, is so normal to her that she doesn't even take in when one season changes to the next. Lexa, on the other hand, looks like she's about to die when Clarke asks her if she's up for ice cream. 

"Clarke, do you plan on catching hypothermia?” And Clarke can't help but give her a teasing look and an implied _are you kidding me, Lexa? Hypothermia?_

“I take it that's a no?”

They both stop walking. Well, Clarke stops because Lexa stops next to her. She turns to look her way and finds the brunette’s body facing her, eyes not leaving hers. “Oh, you were serious…”

“I'm always serious, Lexa.” It's almost believable if only by the temporary serious expression she has on her face but then she laughs and all resolution is gone. “I'm kidding. I mean, I would like some ice cream, but if you're not up for it that's fine with him.”

Lexa shakes her head all too eagerly before a sound and a bit loud ‘no’ escapes from her lips.

With that, Clarke continues their walk and Lexa follows hers. She catches the brunette staring a few times but doesn't say anything. Instead, she does the same because looking at Lexa is very appealing to the eyes, even if the girl is nuzzled in her sweater, arms crossed as she desperately needs to hug herself, and the occasional shiver or tremble of the lips.

The first ice cream shop they walk to is open and Clarke stops crossing her fingers because they won't have to walk any longer before finding decent ice cream.

She looks to Lexa as the walk into the door, seeking reaffirmation that is returned in the form of a single nod and a small curve of the lips. _God, Griffin. Keep it together. That wasn't even a smile and you want nothing more than just a platonic night out._

“You don't have to get ice cream if you don't want to,” Clarke says reassuringly. “It looks like you could use some hot chocolate instead, or perhaps some coffee?” There's a hint of a smile.

“Clarke,” Lexa begins and Clarke tries to count the amount of times that Lexa has said her name _like that_ but the distraction makes it too difficult to keep count. “You're having ice cream so I'm having ice cream with you.”

And so once they both make a decision on what kind of sugary treat they're having, and once they find a small empty table inside the establishment, it is Lexa who speaks up.

"You know, Clarke,” there's eye contact and a smirk on Lexa's face that makes Clarke think that this was a bad idea, in a good way. “For someone who called this “not a date,” you sure are making it feel like one.”

"Don't get your hopes up, Woods.” They both smile at each other and it's so good that they can joke and laugh about this. “This is for the best.” 

(“The problem is, I don't want something temporary with you. I don't want to have something beautiful and then have to ruin it,” Clarke wants and wishes she could say instead.)

 

They stay there for a while, sitting and talking, even hours after they finish their ice cream and Lexa is okay to walk outside again. It's nice to have something like that, they both think. But neither of them is local about it.

 

//

 

The next day when everyone shows up for practice and Anya manages to get a second alone with her sister she doesn't forget to ask how the night went. Lexa answers honestly with a grunt, because of course her sister is annoying her with this early in the morning and because she only had a few hours of sleep, but really she can't complain. It was so worth it and she tells her sister that much, even if she thinks she was friend zoned.

She's looking forward to seeing more of Clarke Griffin.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how many chapter this will have but feel free to follow me on tumblr @lazilytransparentaccountant


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